


if it wasn't you, I wouldn't want anybody close to me

by dottie_wan_kenobi



Series: spideytorch fics [1]
Category: Fantastic Four, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Anxiety, Communication, Consent Issues, Insecurity, M/M, Mentioned Daken/Johnny, Mentioned Lyja The Lazerfist/Johnny Storm, No Sex, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pov johnny storm, Stream of Consciousness, Timeline What Timeline, abuse of em dash, also mentioned include dorrie crystal and frankie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-26 21:47:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19777075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dottie_wan_kenobi/pseuds/dottie_wan_kenobi
Summary: When he looks up, he meets Johnny’s eyes head-on, but it doesn’t feel like a challenge. He’s just searching again, but Johnny doesn’t know what for. “I think—I mean—I don’t think we should. Tonight.”There’d been times, with her, when he’d not really—but it had been fine, and with Crystal and Frankie and even that one time with Dorrie, it hadn’t been an issue—and any time any of his partners (not that many, not really) had ever seemed like they hadn’t wanted to, he’d backed off—he’s not anasshole—he’d never r—“Okay,” and he smiles, tries to make it soft for Peter ‘cause it’s not Peter’s fault his powers are on the fritz. “That’s alright. We can watch a movie or something, if you want?”





	if it wasn't you, I wouldn't want anybody close to me

**Author's Note:**

> I was innocently trying to find a spideytorch fic that touched on the fact that Johnny has some [serious sexual abuse in his past](https://traincat.tumblr.com/post/170234759904/thoughts-on-who-the-woman-on-the-cover-of-2-in-1), and found...basically none. idk if I just didn't look hard enough but ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ decided to write my own. it's now 3 am and so I'm probably gonna edit this tomorrow if anything's wrong (or if yall want you can let me know in the comments) (also I didn't actually make sure Peter's spidey sense works the way it does in this fic but I don't think it's that big a stretch if it's not canon? so it should be fine I hope)
> 
> I'm not an expert at this sort of thing and this should not be taken as a be-all, end-all source of information. I'd also like to say now that Johnny says/thinks some things that I don't necessarily agree with, mostly about himself.
> 
> Warnings: there's no actual rape or sex in this fic. The word "rape" is never used. But it definitely happened and the after-effects are real. Johnny thinks he's okay having sex but he's not really and doesn't understand that (because of the abuse he suffered), which is where those consent issues come from.
> 
> title from close to me by diplo feat. ellie goulding

When Peter picks his head up and asks, brows furrowed, “What’s wrong?”, Johnny honestly has no idea what to say.

Because really, there’s nothing wrong. In fact, Johnny’s wanted this—wanted to explore Peter in more ways than is normally considered friendly—for a long, long time. And now, after a few dates, ones they’re actually admitting are dates and not just hang-outs, ones that were pretty damn wonderful, they’re laying in bed and Peter’s on top of him and it feels _great_. It’s better than he ever thought it could be.

But.

 _No, not but_ , he tells himself. It’s fine. He trusts Peter with his life, with his body, his heart. It’s _fine_.

“Nothing, babe,” he says, trying to lean up and kiss Peter again. His lips meet Peter’s jaw, which is better than nothing, but he only gets that one kiss in before he’s pulling away from Johnny again.

“No, Johnny, something’s—something’s _wrong_.”

The way he says it sends ice through Johnny’s veins so fast, he jumps and almost brains himself on the bed frame. “What? What is it? What’d I do?”

God, if he’s ruined this, he doesn’t know what he’ll do. He brings a hand up, running it through his hair, and he thinks about—

Peter scoots back so the other edge of the bed. There’s space between them, and it makes Johnny feel sort of sick, like he fucked up again, like Peter’s about to tell him how bad everything they’ve done so far was, and fuck, Johnny really thought he’d learned how to be an attentive lover by now—is it really so bad he wanted to just lay back and feel the way Peter was nibbling on his neck, just for a minute?—but why else would Peter _stop_ —

Peter is watching him. He doesn’t look angry, his eyes flickering all over Johnny’s face, his knees suddenly tucked up against his chest. When did that happen?

“Hey, uh, you know you can say no, right? Like if you’re not feeling it, or—I mean, you can say no. For any reason. You don’t even have to tell me why. You know that, right?”

Johnny… does not know what to say to that. “Um.” 

‘Cause, see, he _does_ want this. He knows he does. He’s only been having wet dreams about Spider-Man since he was new to the superhero scene. And anyway, he knows what it feels like, to not want, and this feeling is most assuredly not that.

He looks down at his lap, remembering nights he could pitch a tent and feel so weird about the whole thing it made his chest tight.

Being with Peter doesn’t make him feel weird. But his chest is sorta tight.

“Johnny.”

“I—I don’t—what do you want me to say, Pete?” Please tell him, so he can say it, and they can get back to what they were doing.

He sighs, and he sounds frustrated, and fuck, Johnny _is_ ruining this, isn’t he—”I just want to know, do you want to have sex or not? And you can say no. Please don’t feel like I’m forcing you, because I’m _not_ . We can cuddle or not cuddle or—or _whatever_. Whatever you want to do. I’m okay doing anything, as long as it’s what you want.”

Johnny swallows. “I _want_ to have sex.”

Peter searches his face again, but accepts his answer, and soon enough, he’s back on top of Johnny, pressing featherlight kisses under his jaw. And it feels great. He shifts his hips, and Peter groans, and yeah, it feels _wonderful_ —

“Ugh,” Peter whispers in a decidedly unsexy tone.

“What?” Johnny whispers back. His chest still feels tight and he doesn’t know how to make it stop. “Get caught in your zipper?”

Shaking his head, he says, “No, no, it’s my spider sense. It won’t stop going off, for some reason.”

Johnny can’t help but frown. Doesn’t that mean they’re in danger? He looks around the room, but nothing seems off, and outside the sky is clear if dark, but still not dark enough he wouldn’t be able to see if someone were incoming.

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” he tries, sliding his hand down Peter’s back. 

“It’s usually not, though,” Peter says, and he sits up again. It feels nice in a different way, but it also reminds him of Ali—of Ly—of the kind of sex he used to have a lot more often than he does now.

Throat tightening now, he tries to laugh through it. “Should we suit up, then? Might be kinda… hard.”

Peter hardly cracks a grin at that, looking around like Johnny just had. Serious face on, he even stands up off the bed, going over to the window. Then, abruptly, he turns around, shrugging. “Stopped.” He approaches the bed again, climbing back onto Johnny’s hips, and—”Okay, what the hell.”

“What? What’s it doing now?”

“It started again!”

He sounds so honestly frustrated that Johnny sits up, and oh, this is kinda nice, he’s never done it like this before. “Hey,” he says, pressing a kiss to Peter’s cheek. “It usually goes off when you’re in danger, right?”

“Yeah, or if someone nearby’s being hurt….”

“Well, looks like we’re both doing pretty good right now, so maybe it’s just glitching out or something. Think you can ignore it?” And he hitches his hips up, thrilling in the way Peter flushes, his eyes drooping a little. Ali—Lyj—She never reacted that way.

“I—I—maybe,” Peter says, moving back against Johnny, and _oh_ —”Okay, yeah, no, I can’t. I can’t, I’m sorry,” and he scrambles off of Johnny’s lap.

He has to tug at his pants to make it a little more comfortable, and he’s honestly kind of shocked that, when he looks up, Peter’s watching him again. Nothing like this has ever really happened to him before, and he has no idea how to act, especially when he’s got those eyes on him.

“Um.” He clears his throat, feeling hot and flustered and a little short of breath, which is weird, since they haven’t gone very far. “Okay, that’s okay. We don’t gotta—I mean, if you want, I can try to help you figure out what’s wrong, and then we can—?”

Peter frowns down at the rumpled bedsheets. “I kinda think I already know what’s wrong, but it’s never really _done_ this before.”

Johnny hasn’t really asked any in-depth, science-y questions about Peter’s powers. No reason to, and it’s not like he’d understand it anyway. So he leaves the second part of that alone, and asks, “What’s happening, then?”

When he looks up, he meets Johnny’s eyes head-on, but it doesn’t feel like a challenge. He’s just searching again, but Johnny doesn’t know what for. “I think—I mean—I don’t think we should. Tonight.”

There’d been times, with her, when he’d not really—but it had been fine, and with Crystal and Frankie and even that one time with Dorrie, it hadn’t been an issue—and any time any of his partners (not that many, not really) had ever seemed like they hadn’t wanted to, he’d backed off—he’s not an _asshole_ —he’d never r—

“Okay,” and he smiles, tries to make it soft for Peter ‘cause it’s not Peter’s fault his powers are on the fritz. “That’s alright. We can watch a movie or something, if you want?”

Peter smiles back and it makes Johnny a little lightheaded, how beautiful this man is. He comes and lies next to Johnny, not leaning on his side, and it feels different but nice. Really nice. They turn on a random movie from Netflix, and Johnny tries to pay attention, but he’s hyper-aware of Peter’s body next to his. It’s been a long time since he slept in a bed with someone else in it, that wasn’t Franklin or Valeria napping with him.

The room gets darker as the night wears on, and it makes something in Johnny rebel a little, a tingle up his spine. 

“Hey, Pete,” he whispers, unable to stop the words from coming out of his mouth.

“Yeah?” Blinking sleepily, he turns his head to look at Johnny.

“I know this is a silly question, but what’s your favorite dessert?”

“Aunt May’s chocolate chip cookies with cinnamon and marshmallows,” he replies with no hesitation. “Why?”

He murmurs, “No reason,” and finally lets himself relax a little, knowing this is _Peter_. It really is.

A little while later, Peter whispers, “Hey, hot stuff.”

Johnny’s kinda falling asleep, so he has to force his eyes open, force his head to turn to look at his companion. It’s a little startling to see that Peter’s staring right back, again with that searching, searing look from earlier. “What’s up?”

Keeping his voice soft, he asks,“What happened with Lyja?”

His heart is suddenly pounding. Why is it doing that? This is Peter, he’d never do anything to purposefully hurt him, so why does he feel so _scared_?

“I—why would you want to know about her? We’re done, it’s over. For good. For _ever_. No need to be jealous, babe.”

Peter sighs a little. “Because I can’t help but think you didn’t actually want to have sex tonight, and I don’t know why you’d lie about it unless one of your exes—”

“One of my exes _what_?” He snaps out, sitting up because he can’t—he can’t be lying down right now. “Did something to me? Pete, I appreciate the concern but no, you’re way off base.”

“—taught you bad habits,” Peter finishes, and he sits up too, again putting space between them.

“I wasn’t lying. I did want to have sex with you.” Gritting it out, he tries to grab onto Peter’s hand, only for the other man to gentle the movement, lacing their fingers together.

“I believe you. But can I—can I ask you a kind of weird question?” At Johnny’s nod, Peter goes on, “What do you feel when you’re having sex?”

That _is_ weird. Still, without thought, he asks, “With Lyja or with someone else?”

“Both.” His words are accompanied by a soft squeeze of their joined hands.

Honestly, he can’t remember what it was like with Dorrie, or with Crystal or Frankie. When he thinks about sex, he thinks about Alicia—Lyja—fake moans and way more emotion on his end than any normal person should have, but his chest so tight he was panting for more than one reason. With Daken, it’d been fast and frantic and different, not bad in any way but he couldn’t stop thinking, and he’s always kind of thought you’re not supposed to _think_ when someone’s pounding into you.

“Um. I guess my chest sorta hurts? And it’s hard to breathe sometimes.” He thinks about the few people he’s had sex with since Daken, and can’t think of anything different, really, so he just stops talking.

After a moment, Peter looks down at their hands. “Is that...how you felt earlier?”

“Yeah, I guess…. Is that bad?” The people in the porn videos never look like that, but it’s not like physical chest pain is always visually obvious.

“No, no, it’s not bad. But, Johnny—you shouldn’t—if you feel that way, that’s usually a good indicator you don’t actually want to do stuff.”

“But I did,” he protests, because an erection plus romantic feelings usually equals ready to fuck, doesn’t it?

“I’m not gonna tell you what to feel, Torchie, but those aren’t normal reactions. And I don’t...I don’t want to do anything with you like that until you can do it without feeling those things.”

Chest kind of heaving, Johnny asks, “Why not?”

Peter replies, “What happened with Lyja, Johnny?”

“ _Why not_ , Peter?”

Peter doesn’t pull away even though Johnny half expects him to, and doesn’t look away or shut his eyes or anything. “I’m pretty sure my spider sense was going off because of you.”

“That’s not...that’s not possible. You weren’t hurting me.”

“I think I was. Not physically, but…,” he trails off, letting Johnny fill in the rest. His eyes flick down to Johnny’s ribcage, and back up, communicating a lot and nothing at all.

Opening his mouth to say something, anything, Johnny finds his mind’s gone blank. What the hell do you say to that? What the hell can he possibly say?

“What happened with Lyja?” Peter asks again, voice pitched low and gentle.

Weary, he replies, “Why does it _matter_?”

“It—I don’t want to force you to talk about it if you don’t want to, but I don’t have the full context here, and it’s sounding a lot like she did some bad things to you.”

“She _didn’t_ ,” he rebuffs, but it sounds like a lie even to his own ears. 

Of course, she did a lot of shit to him. But no one’s ever acknowledged it, and he’s gotten used to it by now, and either way, he won’t be the one who finally says that she r—that she _hurt_ him.

“Okay,” Peter relents, rubbing at his eyes with his free hand. He lays back down, and Johnny follows a little hesitantly, their hands still entwined. “You wanna turn something else on? This was getting boring anyway.”

They end up turning on Mulan, and Johnny falls asleep over the covers, holding Peter’s hand, and no, it’s not the way he’d thought the night would go, but that’s okay. 

It’s a hell of a lot better than it could’ve been, he thinks, but doesn’t dwell on the thought, just drifts off, feeling safe and contented with Peter by his side.

**Author's Note:**

> I think I'm gonna be rage-writing about this again so stay tuned, and leave a comment please!! <3


End file.
